The Misadventures of Keeley Abbott
by Her Name Is Erika
Summary: My name is Keeley Abbott. / Or, Keeley Abbott's canine stream of consciousness. BillyVictoria undertones


**The Misadventures of Keeley Abbott**  
**show:** Young & the Restless  
**central character:** Keeley Abbott, Billy & Victoria's shaggy dog.  
**central pairing:** Billy Abbott & Victoria Newman Abbott  
**summary:** My name is Keeley Abbott. / Or, Keeley Abbott's canine stream of consciousness. BillyVictoria undertones.  
**notes:** I miss this dog like you wouldn't believe. It's not even healthy but I love this fictional dog so much and hate that the writers just forgot about him.  
**notes2:** This was inspired by the Sad Dog Diary on YouTube. You can watch it here: watch?v=Xw1C5T-fH2Y.  
**notes3:** Not a fan of Billy & Victoria? That's fine, but they are my _**OTP.**_ Turn back and read something else. I'm in one of my short fuse moods to be honest. I ain't here for that fanwar shit. **Content OVER COUPLE**.  
**disclaimer:** No. I don't own anything recognizable to the show, basically. I don't do this for profit, just to cater to my wild imagination.

* * *

My name's Keeley. Or, at least that's the name I like the best.

I don't remember the other ones.

I like this house only because I have my own doggie door and there's a lot of grass to roll around in in the yard. I like rolling around in newspapers Billy & Victoria leave behind more, but they don't like that very much. Garbage, as well, is bliss – just saying.

Humans are weird. After all, they walk on their hind legs all the time & it's too confusing.

I must go outside so I can attempt to chase my tail while I think about this, long and hard.

.

The dog park is the greatest place in the world.

Like, I've licked Victoria's kitchen chocolate, died, and ended up there. All dogs go to Heaven.

I heard that somewhere. I don't know where. But dog parks are like that. Heaven.

I'd be one happy dead dog. Anyway, Billy takes me there and most of the time I chase this brightly coloured disk he throws and it makes him happy when I catch it & bring it back.

I hate doing it. But I'm such a good dog, and he seems to like it. He's happy and that makes me happy, too. I think I love him – as my humans. Billy and Victoria love me and treat me well enough. All I can do is lick their faces in gratitude. I'm sad when they leave and I feel my tail wag with happiness when one of them comes home.

I'll snuggle with them tonight when we watch the Picture Box. I believe they call it a TV.

(Oh. And I'm here for kibble and those turkey flavoured doggie treats when I play the Disk Game, too but my love for doggie treats are for another time.)

.

One day, I will get that squirrel.

I run after it and I'm upset dogs can't climb trees. But one day, I WILL get that damn squirrel.

As Clifford the Big Red Dog is my witness, I will win the chase.

I'm upset right now and there's another tree. I'm gonna go poop. I don't have control over the squirrels but I have control over where and how I poop. Thank goodness for that.

.

There's this female collie four doors down. Her name is Ruby, and her bright pink collar makes me pant and my tail wag harder than ever.

Victoria took me to the dog park today, again.

A dog shouldn't sniff and tell, but I will anyway.

Ruby sniffed my butt hello today, and it was like Victoria feeding me peanut butter – which tastes great if you have the taste buds of a dog like myself – when I've been extra good.

Basically, awesome.

I like her and then she likes me because we ran around together and we snuggled in the grass.

"I think Keeley's got a dog lady friend. The Babcock's collie four doors down."

"Obviously," Billy replies, sounding happy. He scratches behind my ear. "Keeley's a stud."

She laughs and they do that thing where they press their faces together on the couch. Victoria pats my head and runs her hand through my fur. "Aww. You're a handsome one, aren't you? You're such a good dog. Yes, you are."

I like to think so.

Shaggy is the new sexy, my friends.

.

I felt jealousy. And then I felt bad.

A new German Sheppard came to the park today and was all over Ruby.

I hope he gets followed by the men with the big nets.

I growl lowly at him and Ruby puts her paw on mine to stop me, because she reminds me that she sniffed my butt – and not his. She barks at me and licks my cheek.

I feel happy and I will go & nap on Billy's side of the bed in celebration.

That's right, German Shepherd. She sniffed _my_ butthole first.

.

I can't tell you how liberating it is to lift your back leg and just pee because when a dog's gotta pee, a dog's gonna go. We're simple like that. The same applies to poop, although I wonder why Billy or Victoria carry a baggie with them when they walk me. Apparently, they collect my poo.

Welp. They aren't peeing outside.

Hey, I'm such a good dog, I'd teach them. But you know, baby steps.

I wish humans could experience that and yet they hide and pee. Why?

Billy & Victoria have this white shiny thing that looks like a water dish for bigger dogs that makes this really loud whooshing sound. The water swirls down to nowhere. Keeley, I think to myself, it's magic. It must be.

A cat told me that it's where goldfish die.

Here's something I'm pondering: if a dog falls in the toilet only to be flushed down in an empty, dead silent house, does the dog go to Dog Hell?

Because we know for a fact that there's a Dog Heaven.

I need my squeaky toy to think about this.

.

Leaves are on the ground and I like the way it feels underneath my paws.

There's also something about the color that causes humans to get all happy.

Leaves are great to roll around in too. (But again, I love garbage, more.)

.

I'm a good dog – or at least I try to be.

But I can't help wondering about things. (That, or I just miss my testicles to be quite honest.)

I actually chased my tail down and got it today, and it's colder outside so the squirrels are hiding (that's a work in progress). I play fetch, and live my life as a dog should.

But I feel like there has to be more than life than walks, food and chasing stuff that move. (That's not my fault. I like my things still and standing there. Downside of natural curiosity) My life is pretty good, but the people in the Picture Box – they look like they're doing stuff.

I envy those police dogs. Or, I could be a dog food taste tester.

I don't know.

I breathe in quietly and it's mistaken for a whimper, resting my head on my paws & lie on the couch.

Maybe the walks are a metaphor for something bigger than just a way for me to not eat a sock. I've had a sock before. Let's just say: mistakes were made and socks are good going down but are horrible staying in your stomach. Then there's the whole vet factor and that is not pleasant.

Met a bird there who would not stop squawking. Wanted to sit on him, but didn't.

I feel like the walks Billy & Victoria take me on are a metaphor. They tell me to sit, stay and heel when I should, yet they gave a degree of freedom during walks. I'm on a leash yet I'm allowed to stop, sniff things that intrigue me, acknowledge other dogs and even sit and admire/appreciate a good fire hydrant.

Maybe the leash & the freedom is the social control we as dogs have to obey (again, sorry about the missing sock, Billy.) and the free will to choose.

I'm philosophical, having a somewhat of an existential crisis & hungry. I see Victoria in the kitchen.

I will now go beg her for those liver treats I like so much.

.

Billy secretly fed me bacon.

On Thanksgiving, I'm grateful. Bless you, sir. Bless you.

We will celebrate by playing Tug O' War. I'd like that very much. Or, Victoria could rub my belly.

.

It's the Goldfish Graveyard with the water & I'm looking at it.

Today, I drank from it.

And man did that water taste good. Forgive me, Billy & Victoria. Forgive me, my deceased goldfish friends.

Just…forgive me. I'm a bad dog.

.

**A Haiku by Keeley Abbott  
**_I crave the bacon  
__Squirrels laugh at me from their trees  
__Billy's knee is warmth. _

_._

I sit by the window and watch this white fluff fall from the sky.

They call it snow. Oh.

I like White Fluff better. But you know what I don't like – this new dog sitter, Billy & Victoria has given authority to take care of me while they go pick out a Christmas tree. I don't need a dog sitter. I'm three years old. This is because I drank from the Goldfish Graveyard, isn't it?

Her name is Lorene. She carries no bacon.

I mean, if my loving human owners are going to leave me with a stranger, they should at least make sure this stranger has bacon. And then, we will see what happens then.

"Keeley, come here," she calls me. I'm usually friendly with people but Lorene carries no bacon & I couldn't sleep last night with some dog on our street howling all night. (Bet it was that German Shepard. Let it go! Ruby's all about the shagginess!)

Lorene calls me over again and I don't move. I sit on my haunches in response.

The third time she calls me over; I turn away and groom myself. I feel dirty anyway.

Remember, I'm cranky & want to sleep. Not diabolical. My friend, Emmett the Husky has that honour.

.

That dog is howling again tonight.

It's howling and people and other dogs are trying to sleep. I can't even enjoy how soft Billy and Victoria's carpet is right now.

Billy or Victoria will have to wake up and walk me in the morning.

If I find out where that dog lives, I will pee in their yard. No, scratch that. I'll _poop_.

Cold weather doesn't faze me & they deserve it.

.

There's this talk of a jolly old man that brings presents around this time of year. Delia told me about him last night (sorry, her bedroom carpet is softer). Reed was talking about him to Victoria. When I went out to hang out with Ruby, a tabby cat confirmed it to be so.

They call them Jolly Old Man, Santa Claus.

Since Santa exists, I'd like a new tennis ball, a new collar (preferably bright red), a new squeaky toy and a new canine cave – uhm, doghouse filled with beef jerky. Or, bacon. Bacon is mandatory.

There's a loose sock in my line of vision right now. It's taunting me.

Must not eat. Must not eat it. Santa wouldn't like it if I ate another of Billy's socks.

.

It's almost Christmas today (not quite, I'm told) & I've made a discovery.

Two human people meeting together by the mouth (which is almost a kiss) is the same as mutual dog sniffing. It's a different action but same meaning. Love.

I'm glad I have that new knowledge because Billy likes to kiss Victoria. A lot. He did that under a thing called miseltoe, more than once.

They're doing it right now.

I walk off, trained to know where they keep the leash is.

I want to go walking – that, and there's a bone I buried in the backyard. I'll give it to Ruby for Christmas. With the leash in my jaws, I drop it, bark and expect to be walked.

I like the way they love me which is cool because I love them.

I need to find that bone but I just a kick out of the way the snow feels on my fur and underneath my paws. The only bad thing is that it all turns to water and feels like I've taken a shower so I have to shake myself. It's not that I don't like showers – okay, it is. It's simply that though, I'm forced to take them and get groomed, I don't like showers.

That is the first and last time I will have the same stance as a cat.

In all seriousness, though, please walk me, you guys.

(I demand that with all the doggie love in my heart.)

.

While the squirrels are hiding, I've been busy trying to figure how I'm gonna catch this little black spot on the wall. It could be a bug for something, right?

At least, I thought that. Upon further inspection, it was just a shadow from the light of the lamp.

Oh. Welp. I guess, it's time to eat now. Chasing shadows is hard work, duh!

.

So, guess who has two paws and their own Christmas stocking? This dog.

I got my Christmas present – or one of them – early. I think I just got this lovely bone shaped squeaky toy I'm chewing on as a distraction. I mean, I love this thing and the different sounds will for sure, entertain me for hours. Don't get me wrong.

Billy and Victoria are leaving for a wedding, and I hear words like "church" the most.

I have a pretty good idea of that is. I remember being church when I ran away from the pound and was roughing it as a stray. I remember there being a lot of crosses and the building being really tall and ending at a point. The people in there were dog friendly too. Feed me sometimes – something about a dog being one of God's living creatures or something. I'm assuming this "God" is familiar with Clifford the Big Red Dog.

Of course, they pet me a little. There's love to go around and then love dies because of the dog sitter.

Victoria opens the door, and let the bacon-less stranger in. (Why?)

I think I actually whimper out loud because Billy scratches behind my ear and I stand. I like churches.

I'll be a good dog. I wanna go. I. Want. To. Go.

"I don't think your dog likes me very much."

"Keeley?" Billy questions and ruffles my coat in that way that makes me really happy with one hand. I watch him take the keys off the table and I'm a little sad to see them go to be honest. "Nah, our buddy's awesome. He loves anything & everybody, literally. It's hilarious, actually."

"Lorene, he's friendly. He's fed. He needs a walk later," Victoria instructs, with a smile and then grins, talking to me. "Aren't you?" she grabs her jacket and her bag. "You have our numbers and we'll either be at the Chancellor Estate & at the church later if you need anything."

I'd be friendlier if they took me with them. But alas, that is not the case.

"Be good, Keeley." (Et tu, Billy? After all the bacon we've secretly shared?)

I think _No promises and sure, I may or may not eat another sock in revenge_. I just bark in response.

(Socks are bad, Keeley. Socks are bad.)

So, we meet again, Lorene.

.

I miss Billy and Victoria already. Not that I don't think they'll come back because they will.

But still I miss them. Almost more than I miss bacon.

.

Lorene has to walk me, and I've figure out that I will get through that doggie door & to that church – the tall building with the points and the many crosses outside & inside.

I have to groom myself after all. It's a wedding. (Never been to one up close.)

You can look or turn away as I lick myself. It doesn't matter either way.

.

The first thing I feel as I go through the doggie door and run away from my house is the cold air.

More snow is starting to fall, and it feels weird landing in my coat.

It's Christmas time, and I'm due for an adventure.

(I could also say that I'm walking around and literally sniffling my way to the church to find Billy and Victoria because Lorene is being cheap with those liver dog treats, but that is for another time.)

.

**A Final Haiku by Keeley Abbott (For Now)  
**_Happy dog comes in  
Victoria marries love.  
Billy says, "I do."_

* * *

**A/N: Um… I hope you enjoyed this. I had fun writing it, and it was the most out-there thing I've ever written. But I had fun, and was the first time I've ever written in the POV of a dog. Ever. I've been doing this for almost 8 years, and it's literally my first time so I'm proud I myself. My imagination went off the rails and I let it fly. **

**As always, my inspiration comes from re-watching Billy & Victoria's weddings and remember why I ship this couple like crazy, and my love for their furry friend. Sad, I know. And yes, Keeley is a dog and writes haiku in his head, why? Because he is a genius on four legs that's why. **

**Feedback, as always, is appreciated. I will virtually lick your face in gratitude like Keeley. (Okay, not really, because that's nasty – but you get the drill.) **

**I'm off to sleep, so I can write something about Summer. Already outlined it in my head. **

**-Erika**

**PS. Please read any of my other Y&R stuff when you get the chance. My newest is "say you'll be my nightingale". It's cool if you don't read it, but it would make my day :). **


End file.
